Darcy Overhears at Pemberley
by Eloquent Quill
Summary: Regency P&P. What if Mr. Darcy heard Elizabeth speak in the sculpture gallery when she was at Pemberley? What might have happened?


Fitzwilliam Darcy stepped across the threshold of his beautiful home at Pemberley. He sighed, stretching his stiff neck. Caroline Bingley's outbursts at the pleasures of London, namely herself, were tiring and he had found the excuse of business to return one day early as highly desirable, even though business with his steward was not usually the most exciting thing to do. He crushed the papers he had brought from London in his hand and pushed his sweaty bangs out of his eyes. The drops were too much like the rain that had been pummeling himself and Miss Elizabeth on that terrible day in April. His stomach tightened and he quickly shut his eyes, leaning against a table nearby. _Admit it,_ he thought grimly. _You also thought that returning a day early would help to relieve the pain_. Even now, he could not think of her without an aching loneliness.

Murmuring voices broke through into his hazy mind and he turned away to another corridor, having no desire at all to encounter any visitors or guests. Not even the servants, who he usually didn't mind. His boots clicking down the hall, he met a girl arranging a bunch of summer flowers in a vase on a table much like the one he had just left behind.

"Excuse me, where can I find Mrs. Reynolds?"

"Mrs. Reynolds is showing a couple and their daughter about, sir. They should be in the Marble Room."

"Thank you."

He turned around, ignoring the respectful curtsy. He turned back to where he had heard the murmuring voices, recognizing their source as the Marble Room. He warily approached the door and stopped as Mrs. Reynold's voice came across, high and clear.

"Does the young lady know Mr. Darcy?"

"Only a little." There was a certain familiarity he soon dismissed. What would anyone he knew be doing at Pemberley without his knowledge?

"Do you not think him a handsome man, miss?"

At this he blushed. Mrs. Reynolds was far too bold, but was of course, granted leniency because of her tender regard for his family ever since he had been a small child.

"Yes, yes, I daresay he is." There was an aching sadness and loneliness in that voice. Had he unknowingly been the cause of another heartbreak in London? He hoped he would never meet the person whose words those were, and wished them away from Pemberley with all speed. His heart belonged to only one, and to her it would remain, even if it was not welcome. He would remain a bachelor if he had to - Georgiana would more than suffice to be an heir. As long as Aunt DeBourgh never gained a hold of Pemberley.

Abruptly he turned once again to wait in the corridor until it was safe to return to find Mrs. Reynolds. Thankfully the Marble Room was near the end of the tour, he didn't think he'd be able to wait for long to talk to her. There was a burning impatience in him to sit with Georgiana and forget his pain and misery of the last several months. Only Georgiana or Miss Elizabeth could relieve him now. He would even welcome her biting speech compared to her look of shock, horror, and perhaps even repulsion when he spoke to her in the temple. He picked up a rose petal that the girl had accidentally dropped and rubbed it thoughtfully between his fingertips. It's deep red color, silken feel, and fragrant scent were refreshing after months of horses, buggies, and alcohol in London.

The voices faded away and he counted the seconds. _1...2...3..._ She'll be showing them out now. When he thought it safe to come out of his hiding place, he took the shortcut through the Marble Room to find her at the East end of Pemberley.

What he saw there nearly choked him with surprise.

Lizzy had argued vehemently against going to Pemberley, but when her feeble excuse, "He's so rich!" had been taken into account, her aunt and uncle just laughed her off as a snob. Although she was miserable, she couldn't help but marvel at Mr. Darcy's fine tastes. The building was classic, not as pretentious and over decorated with ornaments as Rosings, instead a pleasant, airy feeling permeating the air. Every time she heard boots around the corner, several times now, she looked up expecting to see Mr. Darcy appearing before them, even though Mrs. Reynolds had assured them that he wouldn't be home - he was still in London. Her mournful air puzzled her relatives. _And this is what I could have been the mistress of already. A happy one, too._

Her thoughts and memories of Mr. Darcy whirled through her head as they stepped from one room to the next, every one with the touch of flavor perfect for Elizabeth's tastes. The library was undoubtedly her favorite. She briefly ran her finger over all the fine, bound volumes of books before regretfully tearing herself away to be shown another part of the building. The gardens were enchanting, and the Marble Room mysterious. Many famous sculptures were here - even works of Michelangelo, that had been sent for from Florence, Italy. Mrs. Reynolds showed one with particular pride, a delicate little angel with an ethereal look about her, that had been the late Mr. Darcy's wedding present to his wife. It truly reminded her of Jane, and the connection saved her from something like desperation - she could not help but feel Jane's suffering after Mr. Bingley's departure from Hertfordshire - part of which was Mr. Darcy's influence. Still, the reputation of the man now so deeply implanted in her heart would not be sullied. The memory of their dancing at the Netherfield Ball, once scorned and nearly forgotten, was brought back and cherished in her sudden affection and changed feelings.

She came upon a marble bust of Mr. Darcy, and couldn't help the tears that came to her eyes. Her voice was distant, almost dreamy, and she vaguely recalled telling Mrs. Reynolds that she knew Mr. Darcy a little and that, yes, he was very handsome. She was lost in her head, and briefly stared at her hands as she remembered Mr. Darcy's gentle touch during their dance. When she looked back up she beheld not the marble bust, but its image in the flesh. At first she could only gape and jump back, crying in surprise, "Mr. Darcy!"

He bowed. "Miss Elizabeth." To himself: _Yes, yes, I daresay he is._ Miss Elizabeth thought him handsome! His look of gentle kindness and concern proved to be the last drop in the bucket of Elizabeth's emotional capacity. First one tear escaped her eye, and then one from the other. They chased each other down her cheeks and she found that there were one, two, three, four tears falling out of her eyes. In embarrassment she turned away, but the thump of boots came around to the other side of her and mutely pressed a handkerchief into her hand.

Mr. Darcy could only look on in wretched concern. The most natural thing seemed to be to hold her, but that he was forbidden by the rules of propriety. He almost turned away to ask a servant to find the couple she had came with, and suddenly at the sight of her shaking shoulders, changed his mind. He set his foot down purposefully closer to her with a muttered, "Oh, hang propriety!" which Elizabeth could not help but hear, and set her off anew. He gently put his arm around her and led her out onto a balcony in the next room, hoping the fresh air would help stem the flow of sorrow.

When she gained enough control herself, she choked, "Mr. Darcy, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have come - and I deeply regret what I said last April - Pemberley and you together are just too much for me - " and once again buried her face into the handkerchief. Darcy sighed and decided to take a step daring step forward. He wrapped both of his arms around her and held her close and secure. He half expected her to jerk away and throw more biting words of spite into his face, but to his dim surprise, she did not, and instead leaned her head against his chest.

When the tears finally spent themselves, she pulled away and apologized again for ruining his day. He replied, "Indeed not. I am most pleased to see you here at Pemberley and am very sorry to have caused you distress."

In a momentary return to her old crispness, she fixed him with her sharp stare and said, "You cause me distress? I can only imagine what distress my refusal would have caused for you!"

He just shook his head. "Perhaps when you are sufficiently recovered, I might have the pleasure of introducing my sister, Georgiana, to you over tea and dinner? I'm sure she would be delighted."

"Yes, I would like that. I hope I am not interrupting your quiet life." She paused. "I believe my aunt and uncle are somewhere on the grounds."

"I will find them myself. I can guess where they have gone." He bowed and exited, but not before giving a look that made her catch her breath in her throat.

Elizabeth turned and leaned gratefully against the balcony railing.

Mrs. Gardiner nudged her husband, mesmerized by the pond behind Pemberley and stared at the back of the main building of Pemberley. "Why, look at that carving! It's so beautiful!"

"Is it the façade that so enchants you, my dear?"

"Indeed."

They turned to gaze at the view when the sound of the clunking of boots and the crisp step of a lady's shoe above them turned their attention back to the building.

"Why, it's Lizzy!" Mrs. Gardiner's astonished gaze caused Mr. Gardiner to break out in unsuppressed peals of mirth.

"Did you expect her to be a ghost? Of course she's still in the building."

"But she's crying! Whatever does she have to be so distressed about, the poor girl! She's been unnaturally quiet ever since we entered the grounds of Pemberley. There's someone with her, too. Who could it be?"

This last pronouncement caused Mr. Gardiner to look around in surprise. "That is none other than the master of the house, Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy! The gardener pointed him out as he came thundering back on that huge black steed of his, I think Parsifal was his name."

They watched in silence as Mr. Darcy enfolded her in his arms. "There seems to be something between those two. I'm surprised, quite frankly. Lizzy always spoke of him in the most unflattering terms. But lately, whenever we mention Mr. Wickham, her manner always becomes very guarded. Perhaps she knows something about him that we don't?"

Mr. Gardiner was seething. "What of her reputation? They're just standing on the balcony there oblivious to the world." Mrs. Gardiner laid a restraining hand on his arm.

"Something tells me that he is allowed this liberty. Lizzy, after all, would not allow it without a good reason. Trust our niece's good judgment." As an afterthought she added, "I don't think the servants of They watched the exchange in silence after that, leaving Mrs. Gardiner free to wonder. What in the world was going on? Was it possible that Lizzy and Mr. Darcy were in love with each other? Lizzy had never been so quiet on a topic before, and had even tried to dissuade them from going to Pemberley, although she had always been attracted by natural beauty before. She kept on watching Lizzy until a young man bowed to her and offered her his arm. Mr. Darcy!

"Come, my dear," said her husband. "Mr. Darcy has invited us to spend the afternoon at Pemberley. Lizzy will meet us inside."

"Why, thank you, Mr. Darcy," said Mrs. Gardiner politely. "I'm sure Lizzy would be delighted as well."

To her discerning gaze, Mr. Darcy looked uncomfortable at that, but replied politely that he hoped so, and that he wished to introduce his sister to them, Miss Georgiana. Mrs. Gardiner concealed her surprise, for she had heard that Mr. Darcy was most protective of his sister and would only have her meet the best of company. Yes, there was something going on that she did not know.

Mr. Darcy had been pleasantly surprised to find Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner to be people of fashion, and not more twittery Bennets. He had been even more pleased when he returned to find Georgiana, curls bouncing, conversing delightedly with Elizabeth, while the only trace that remained of the latter's tears was a little redness in the eyes. He determinedly engaged Mr. Gardiner in conversation about fishing although his thoughts were still on the balcony and found himself voicing the sincere hope that Mr. Gardiner would stop in and indulge his love of the sport whenever he happened to come into the area.

Tea passed pleasantly enough, with Mrs. Gardiner praising the management of the household and Elizabeth engaged in conversation with both of her hosts. The affection for Elizabeth showed obviously in his eyes. He started when Elizabeth fixed him with her gaze and said, "I did indeed meet Mr. Darcy several times in the walks around Rosings. Did we not meet, Mr. Darcy?"

Taken by surprise, he still managed to formulate an answer, and when Elizabeth voiced her love for the outdoors and picnics around the meadows of Hertfordshire, Georgiana enthusiastically extended an invitation for Elizabeth to come with them to a picnic at Pemberley the next afternoon. Mr. Darcy seconded the invitation. With the thought of another afternoon of Mr. Darcy and his sister, giving her reason to hope for the status of his feelings toward her, Elizabeth's face was aglow for the rest of the evening.

They parted soon afterwards, and as he handed Elizabeth into the carriage, he bowed over her hand and kissed it, gently and lovingly. Elizabeth blushed and gave him a smile that lifted him through the evening.


End file.
